


I Wanna Live with Common People Like You

by HannahPelham



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: A Britpop AU absolutely nobody asked for, Britpop, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 06:18:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17823479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahPelham/pseuds/HannahPelham
Summary: The BoRhap boys are a band in 1990s UK - they're at the heart of Britpop. Heidi Saunders is a young, alcoholic, chain-smoking, sex obsessed music journalist who goes to interview them. She doesn't expect what follows.





	I Wanna Live with Common People Like You

Heidi Saunders walked into the venue just as the band were starting to play. She got a pint and added it to her ongoing tab at the bar. She looked over to the stage and began to bop along as the crowd started getting more and more into the song the young men were playing. She had a good look at the band for the first time, and consulted her cheat sheet that Melody Maker, the music magazine she worked for, had given her. 

First there was Rami Malek, the singer. Small, almost slight, but with immense stage presence. He could hold an audience like nobody. 

 

Then, Ben Hardy, the drummer. He was the fan favourite. Blonde, strong, and hot, he was always surrounded by a gaggle of girls.

 

The bassist Joe Mazzello then finally came into view. A contrast to the quiet and stoic bassist trope, he engaged the audience in little asides when not singing. 

 

Last, but certainly not least, was the guitarist, Gwilym Lee. Standing significantly taller than his other bandmates, he was something of an enigma to Heidi. 

Rami worked the crowd, getting them more and more riled up and more and more into the music as they drank more and more alcohol. The crowd only calmed when the band played an acoustic number, featuring Gwilym on vocals. His voice was much softer and folkier than Rami’s, but he engaged the crowd immensely nonetheless. 

The gig finished with an encore, and slightly sarcastic bows from the men on stage. Heidi made her way through the crowd and flashed her Melody Maker pass, getting through to the backstage area with ease. She found the large room the band had claimed as a dressing room, and walked in. All eyes turned to her as she walked in. What the band saw was a brunette young woman in thigh high boots, a leopard print coat, a stripy dress, and a pint in her hand. 

“Hello. You are?” Joe said, moving to shake her hand. 

“Heidi Saunders. Melody Maker.” She replied. Plenty of eyebrows raised as she walked into the room and sat down on the battered leather sofa where the bassist had just been sat. 

“Did they send you, or are you here by choice?” Ben asked, studying her intensely. 

“By choice” Heidi replied, as she felt an arm, Gwilym’s, lie behind her on the back of the sofa. Heidi chatted to them for a while, taking a few notes to help her write her review. Soon enough, drinks started flowing and more people began to appear. Ben’s traditional gaggle of girls arrived, fuelled on good music and white wine. Rami’s girlfriend Lucy, petite and pretty, arrived from the bar with more alcohol, much to her boyfriend’s delight. Joe joked with some of the staff and the roadies, eyeing up one of Ben’s girls with very little success. Gwilym stucks with Heidi as they drank, talking about music and poetry and books and everything both of them held dear. 

It was Gwilym who made the first move - the first sloppy, drunken kiss. It hadn’t taken long after that for Heidi to make a place for herself on Gwilym’s lap, pulling on his hair and grinding her hips against his. They were both drunk, but they knew what they were doing. They knew how much they wanted each other. Everybody around them could see it too. After a few minutes of snogging and dry humping like teenagers, Heidi grabbed Gwilym’s hand and dragged him to the ladies toilets. It wouldn’t be classy, it wouldn’t be romantic, but it would be them. 

She pulled him into a stall and reconnected their lips. He hoisted her up against the wall and pushed her dress up, pleasantly surprised at the lack of knickers. Her stockings and suspenders stayed put. Her fingers made quick work of his belt, as he bit and sucked at her neck, claiming her as his by leaving a mark. He pulled a condom from his back pocket and slipped it on, never once removing his lips from her neck and chest. He lifted her up slightly, and entered her as she came down. One hand grabbed his hair, and the other the top of the bathroom stall as Gwilym thrusted into her fast, pace ever increasing as he neared his high. He lifted one of her legs so it sat over his shoulder, allowing him better access. She moaned louder and louder as he thrusted harder and harder into her. It wasn’t long before they both reached their high, Heidi biting into Gwilym’s shoulder to stifle her loud moans and exclamations. 

Gwilym quickly got rid of the condom and pulled up his trousers, as Heidi fixed her hair somewhat in the mirror, before she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back to the table where they’d been sat, and they resumed their teenage snogging that they’d been doing only 10 minutes before.  

They stayed like that for most of the night, only separating when they left the venue and drunkenly stumbled into a taxi directed to Heidi’s flat. They collapsed into bed, passing out before either could say a word of sense. 

Heidi woke early the next morning, the sun streaming through the open curtains. She slipped out of bed, doing her best not to wake the man next to her, and sat down at her desk. She took a deep breath and began typing her article about the band on her typewriter. 

_‘Rami Malek as a frontman is unforgettable. He is young, but with wisdom and stage presence beyond his years. His voice weaves its way through the crowd with immeasurable grace and strength, it’s fragility and power clear in equal measure. He flirts with the crowd, though mainly with his girlfriend, up and coming model Lucy Boynton._

_As a man, Malek is sweet, making everybody feel at home and making sure all glasses are filled before he worries about himself. He is obviously the leader of the group, and the rest of the band look up to him the way a young boy would to his father, though of course they all swear impartiality. He is staggeringly ordinary, but also extraordinary._

_Gwilym Lee - lead guitarist and resident gentle giant - is engrossed in plucking his strings. He is unimposing despite his 6'2" stature, often wetting his lips with slight flicks of his tongue. His eyes squint slightly when a particularly hard section of the song but breaks into a smile towards the audience and his bandmates when the stress dissipates._

_Most importantly, and most attractively, Gwilym Lee is bashful. He has an air of humility that is so utterly endearing that girls and boys can't help but swoon at the sight of his dazzling smile that he hides with a loosely clenched fist._

_Joe Mazzello is a subtle but powerful driving force. His fingers fly up and down the fret board, body following the bass line he himself had whipped up. His posture and hand position comes straight from a diagram, but his playing is something filthy. He licks his fingers, swings his bass and hips, and even sends seductive winks to the faceless sea of his admirers, accompanying each deadly move with a poisonously addicting smile._  
  
Beneath that seductive air lays a man who is nothing but soft smiles and sarcastic statements. Mazzello's humour is one of a kind; self deprecating, sly and sardonic all at once. It makes him the life of the party, especially paired with his naturally coordinated dancing that compliments music like cheese to wine.

 _Ben Hardy is something akin to paradoxical. Mazzello, try as he might, cannot come up to par to the raw sexual energy escaping from Hardy's every pore. He puts his heart and soul into hitting each tom, cymbal and snare exactly when needed to, flicking his hair and gasping as though every breath is his last. His muscles ripple with each mighty swing and the men and women around me drool unabashedly, mouths hung open with lust._  
  
Offstage, Ben Hardy is the most mild man I've ever met. He is often dismissal with his role, but is obviously secure about it. He shakes hands and introduces himself as simply 'Ben', striking conversations organically and leaving whenever something floats his interesting. In many ways, he could be labelled as simply dull, but a sparkle in his eyes seems to glimmer bright in the overly white lighting of the backstage area. I know for a fact that he is not even remotely drunk - tipsy at most - but the alcohol seems to have a sedative effect to his shot nerves from pure adrenaline.All in all, Ben Hardy is simply beautiful. Scratch that, all of them are beautiful.’


End file.
